The Sorrow Not Spoken
by Bedlams Bard
Summary: Pre-Movie. Jean has a conversation with Erik one night shortly before he leaves the school, the children and Charles behind.


**The Sorrow Not Spoken**

She entered the room reverently, shutting the door behind her as quietly as possible before her eyes could even adjust to the gloom. For what seemed like an eternity she stood breathing raggedly, one hand still resting on the doorknob, as she tried to take in all the details of her surroundings.

The only light was given off from the fireplace, on either side of which two ageing leather chairs promised comfort. Beyond them bookshelves dominated one wall, the scattered paintings subdued into mere islands lost amidst those haphazard volumes. A desk sat to one the side of French doors that had been thrown open to the night, the flimsy curtains on either side stirred by the faintest caress of a breeze.

"Dr Lehnsherr?" She spoke into the apparently empty room, feeling infinitely like a trespasser here.

"Out here, Miss Grey," came the soft reply. "Please, join me. It is a beautiful evening."

Jean drew a single, settling, breath and headed straight out onto the patio as he'd bidden her. She had to take a moment just beyond the doors to allow her eyes to adjust once again. Erik stood with his back to her, leaning impassively against the patio's railing and staring up into the late-evening sky. She crossed the small divide to stand next to him at the rail, resting her hands on its smooth top.

"What can I do for you, Jean?" he asked in a voice much more gentle than the one he used in the classroom.

Suddenly faced with the startlingly obvious question Jean wasn't sure she knew the answer. She looked down at her hands, why hadn't she gone to the Professor? He was the one that everybody automatically thought of when they had a problem of any kind. So why had she slipped away from her friends after dinner and come here instead?

"Jean?" She looked up suddenly to find him watching her. Such concern packed into a single word that she hardly had to look into those clear blue eyes to know that he genuinely wanted to know if she were all right. Of course he'd never say it. Jean knew in that instant why she had come to him and not to Charles.

"Come on," he said and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Charles would never forgive me if I allowed you to catch your death out here." Gently he guided her inside, pulling the doors to behind them and deposited her neatly in one of the fireside chairs. She watched as he lapsed into the other chair to sit back and watch her in turn. "I'm afraid you're going to have to tell me what it is that's wrong before I can help. Charles has certain advantages over me there."

If she hadn't known better she could have believed that it was said as nothing more than a jibe. But she did know better, and that was why she was there. "You're going to leave." Jean said with all the calm detachment a fifteen-year-old could muster.

"Ah." It was all he said, but it confirmed everything she'd thought had been happening. The others were pleased that the arguing had stopped between the two patriarchal men. What they didn't realise, couldn't realise, was that it wasn't a cease-fire but a withdrawal.

The signs were there if only they'd known where to look. The Professor's cheerfulness around them was just a little too light-hearted. Dr Lehnsherr's absence from the dinner table was just a little too conspicuous when he didn't have one of his pet projects in hand. Jean curled up her legs beneath her and watched him now as his face turned away to the fire.

"I don't know how much longer I can stay." He said very softly, "It's just not enough any more."

Jean struggled to think of something to say that wouldn't sound like the grief stricken teenager she suddenly felt. She wanted to beg him to stay, to say that everything would be all right. But in her heart of hearts she knew that it wouldn't be. That something had changed in the mansion and it wasn't anything tangible enough to fix.

"When will you go?" Jean asked instead. It sounded so clinical, as if by putting a date on it she was admitting defeat. Maybe she was, maybe they both were.

"I don't know for certain yet. I'm not even sure where I will go yet, only that I can't remain here any longer." He looked at her then and shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

They sat in silence for a time, Jean curled in the chair that overshadowed her and feeling very young and vulnerable. She wanted to ask him to stay, to tell him that she needed him there and that they all did. That things would never be the same without him. The only reason she didn't say anything at all, was because she knew that the same thoughts had already crossed his mind. She wrapped her arms around her knees instead, trying to hold herself together, to hold back the childish tears, so that he wouldn't think anything less of her.

"I'll miss you," Erik said very gently.

When she looked up he was leaning forward in the chair, his hands clasped in front of him as if he'd wanted to reach out to her. It was too much. Jean jumped up out of the chair and rushed forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders and bury her face into the crook of his neck.

"Please don't go,"

He tensed in surprise, but then his arms came up around her and he stroked her back as though he were trying to soothe away an unpleasant dream. "I just can't stay any longer, Jean. This isn't where I belong any more."

"Then where do you belong?" Jean demanded ferociously. She pulled back a little from the hug and stared at him in angry defiance. "We're your family. You belong here with us."

She tried to ignore the flash of anger in his eyes and the deeper hurt she saw beneath it. When he shook his head again she knew that she'd already lost and that he really was leaving, despite anything she might say. "It's complicated," he said gruffly. "I don't expect you to understand now, Jean. But perhaps one day you will. And remember you'll always be able to call me or come visit over breaks. This isn't the end of everything, just a change."

She bowed her head, unable to meet his eye, because she didn't want him to see that she really did think it was the end of something. She was filled with a sadness and a fear she could not give voice to, and which she could not explain. Instead she slowly nodded, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes and tried to suppress it. He pulled her back into a fierce hug, holding on to her tightly as if by doing so he could keep a part of them together even after he left.

"It's for the best," he said, and she couldn't tell which of them he was trying to convince. "It's time I found my own path instead of following someone else's."

She hugged him back hard and then let go, quickly wiping the back of her hands across her face. If he noticed he didn't say anything. "I'll miss you too," she said and quickly hurried away before he saw her cry. She let herself out without a fuss, avoiding the hubbub of the others in the common room and headed straight for her room.


End file.
